Looking back on my youth, I'm lost in a whirl of thoughts, of great times when life was filled with sunny skies, bare feet, peanut butter & jelly and a hug from Mom as I ran out the door.  Memories so fresh like opening a picture book.  I'm "home" every time I think of you.  I wander back to places only I can go, I need not share with anyone.  Not like when I was told to share, to give up my favorite toy, blanket, or bike.

I can choose to share my dreams if I wish but they will never be given away.  My memories and love of you is a present just for me.  So many things I was given through your love, often with sacrifices of your own.  Never a word spoken of it then or now.  Knowing now because I'm a parent too.

Your love for me was baking cookies, a Band-Aid and a kiss, a kind word, holding my head when I was sick, carving pumpkins, always standing up for me, and giving of yourself without question.  
On my case, in my face and snooping around the place because you love me.  What a wonderful feeling; a knowing in my heart of a safe place.
"HOME"